The War of Wills
by AliasCWN
Summary: Tully has to win a war of wills or die.


**The War of Wills**

By: AliasCWN

Tully fell to his knees and was pulled onto his stomach. The rocks dug into his belly as his toes tried to get a purchase. Using his hands, he pulled himself to his feet again, stumbling upright. Getting his feet to move was a monumental effort but one he was forced to make.

 _'Dang ole mule.' he thought. 'I told Pa we should have borrowed a different mule. This one is plumb crazy; as barn sour as they come with a hard mouth to boot. I never worked with such a mule. If the tractor hadn't broken down, this field would have been finished already.'_

 _Tully thought about the second hand tractor that his family owned. He thought he knew what was wrong with it but Pa said that they didn't have the money to fix it. His next run of 'shine' would give them enough extra money to buy the part; Tully couldn't wait. He wanted to drop the reins right now and let the mule run all the way home while he jumped into his car. Once he had that steering wheel in his hands all would be right in his world._

 _What had started the mule running anyway? Firecrackers? No, that didn't seem right. Tully tried to get his tired mind to work. He was so thirsty; his mouth felt like he had swallowed cotton balls. Concentrate, he scolded himself. It's the wrong time of year for firecrackers. Maybe not, he argued with himself. It sure is hot enough for the Fourth of July. Too late to be plowing a field though, the crops should have been planted months ago. If it was July, what was the rush to get the field plowed?_

Tully looked down at his feet. There was no plow in front of him, no furrows in the ground; just sand. Sand as far as he could see when he lifted his head. No mule either, just a bunch of guys in loose fitting robes on horseback with their backs to him. They weren't paying any attention to him, just riding along like they didn't have a care in the world. Their only connection to him was the rope running from one of the saddles to his bound hands. Tully struggled to keep up as it all came flooding back.

They had been stopped at a water hole. Troy was cleaning the 50 on his jeep because it had jammed in an earlier battle. He had it all broken down and was wiping the sand off of it. Moffitt was going over the maps again. Hitch was helping him refill the water cans. They didn't have a guard out; the desert had seemed empty when they stopped. The water hole was really out of the way for the German patrols. They weren't going to be there long, only long enough to get water. He had filled two of the water cans and was filling the second two while Hitch took the first two back to the jeeps.

The Arabs had managed to surprise them; not an easy thing to do to the Rat Patrol. He supposed that it was partly because they had been exhausted at the time. That was no excuse but it did help to explain why it had happened the way that it had. Their reactions had been fast, maybe just not as fast as normal.

Troy didn't have time to reassemble his 50, meaning that they were short in their normal heavy fire power.

Tully had been pinned down near the water while the others fought the Arabs. Every time he had tried to make a run for the jeeps there had been a volley of bullets to drive him back. Finally the others had been forced to make a run for it or risk being overrun. He hadn't blamed them; he knew that they hadn't wanted to leave him behind. He also knew that they would be back for him. He suspected that even now they could be watching him through their binoculars.

The Arabs had been known to kill prisoners rather than let them be rescued. The others knew that; they wouldn't take any chances. When they came, they would make sure that this time they had the element of surprise on their side. He closed his eyes, blocking out some of the blinding sun, letting his mind wander back to Kentucky.

 _Their mule had pulled a tendon and Pa couldn't use him to plow. After the tractor broke down, Pa had been forced to borrow the neighbor's mule. Rufus, the mule, was a cantankerous critter who had been standing around unused for too long. The neighbor had been arrested for running 'shine' and his family no longer farmed, but for some reason, they had held onto Rufus. Tully had wanted to find another mule, but with the planting season in full swing, it looked like Rufus was the only one available. Then Pa had hurt his leg when a log fell on it. That left Tully to plow the field with Rufus._

 _Rufus wanted to go the wrong way all of the time. Tully had had one heck of a time keeping the furrows straight. If he hadn't known better he would have sworn that someone was feeding the mule mash from the moonshine stills. Tully had seen drunks walk in straighter lines._

 _Then there was his irritating habit of stopping every ten feet or so. Tully had worked up a sweat just keeping him moving. The mule had a certain superior look that he had perfected, leaving you feeling like he was the one in control._

"Oh no you aren't! You aren't going to win this war of wills!" Tully thought out loud. "I'm gonna win this one!" When he spoke, the Arabs stopped their horses.

Tully stumbled into the south end of the north bound horse in front of him. He bounced off and fell to his knees. The horse, startled, shifted nervously but to his credit, didn't kick. When Tully looked up the Arabs were staring at him curiously.

"What are you looking at?" He demanded as loud as he could croak. It wasn't loud but he managed to put all of his defiance into those few words.

The Arabs exchanged surprised glances among themselves before one of them made a comment that had the others laughing.

"Laugh now," Tully warned them, "because you won't be laughing when my friends get back."

The Arab with the rope gave him another amused look before spinning his horse. With a tug on the rope, he pulled Tully back to his feet.

Tully allowed the tug to pull him up since his knees were threatening to collapse under him. He sighed and resigned himself to walking a little further.

 _Despite their differences, Tully and Rufus had managed to get most of the field plowed. It was hard, tiring work, and they were both getting a bit cranky from all of their disagreements._

 _"Just finish this last little bit and you can go home." Tully told the mule. "That will make us both happy."_

 _The mule had seemed to understand because he put some effort into pulling the plow. Tully didn't have to slap him with the reins at all for a full ten minutes; a new record._

 _Tully wasn't sure what happened next. One minute they were going along just fine; even plowing a straight row. The next, the mule took off like his tail was on fire and the nearest water was fifty miles away._

 _With the reins draped over his neck and gripped tightly in his hands, Tully found himself running to keep up with the mule. The freshly plowed ground made for some very uneven footing but Tully's feet barely touched the ground anyway. That old mule still had a lot of energy left even after acting half dead while they were working._

" _Guess you weren't so overworked after all, you old faker." Tully had been feeling guilty for working the mule so hard but now he was having second thoughts on the matter._

 _His foot caught on an exposed root and he fell forward. He caught his balance at the last second and managed to stay on his feet. "Whoa! Whoa!" he called to the runaway mule. He sawed on the reins, hoping to stop the animal's flight. The mule didn't stop, but he did slow to a walk. Tully kept tugging on the reins, trying to get the mule to stop moving, but the obstinate animal had a mind of its own. He was headed for home and Tully either had to go along or leave the mule to go on on his own. Since it still wore the harness and pulled the plow, Tully really had no choice. He struggled to maintain his balance as he followed the tail of the mule._

Firecrackers! Tully stumbled to a stop. 'It wasn't firecrackers that spooked Rufus.' Tully braced to pull on the reins. If Rufus ran again he knew he would never be able to stay on his feet. He was too tired. It was too hot. He'd be dragged to death before the mule ran out of steam. He knew he didn't have the strength to get to his feet again if the mule took off and the rocks and sand would tear his body apart.

Sand….sand, not Kentucky dirt. Tully brought his thoughts back to North Africa, leaving Kentucky…and Rufus…behind.

Not firecrackers, gun shots; and not just any guns, 50 caliber guns. American guns.

The horses were stopped now; Tully looked up to see the Arabs staring at something in front of them. Tully knew what they were watching. He didn't have to see, he knew!

He heard shouting, the words were in Arabic, but Tully recognized the voice, Moffitt. The horses shifted nervously as they felt their rider's unease.

"You'd better do as he says." Tully told the Arab holding the rope.

The Arab twisted around in his saddle to look at Tully.

Tully tried to smile through the pain of his ordeal. He'd been beaten, dragged, denied food and water,… but his friends were here, he had survived.

The Arab untied the rope from his saddle horn and let the rope drop to the ground. With a guttural order to his companions, he yanked on his horse's mouth, turning away from Tully.

"You give that horse a hard mouth and you'll have trouble getting him to stop someday." Tully called after him, remembering Rufus.

Tully slumped to the ground, exhausted but happy. A jeep roared up next to him and he didn't even notice the dust it stirred up as it slid to a stop beside him.

"Are you all right Tully?" Moffitt was out of his jeep and kneeling next to Tully before the dust had settled. He held a canteen in his hand, giving the gift of life on the desert.

Tully drank greedily until Moffitt pulled the canteen out of his hands. Capping it, the Brit tossed it into the jeep. Reaching down, he placed his hands under Tully's arms and helped him to his feet. Supporting his weight, Moffitt helped Tully into the passenger seat.

Tully looked around to see Troy behind the 50 on his jeep, watching for the Arabs to return. Hitch was eyeing the desert with an angry look on his face. Moffitt took the driver's seat and yelled that they were ready. Troy nodded without looking but Hitch turned to look toward Tully. When he caught Tully's eyes he nodded and smiled. Tully winked at him. Hitch smiled wider and popped a bubble in response.

Tully leaned back into the padded seat. "Well Rufus," he thought, "I guess I know how you feel about going home."


End file.
